Create Yourself
by SquintandProud-x
Summary: Buffy Summers hates Liam O'Connor. Liam O'Connor is intrigued by Buffy Summers. Buffy is still trying to find herself after the divorce of her parents. Liam believes you don't find yourself, you create yourself. Can Buffy move beyond her hate for this boy? Can Liam heal old wounds?
1. Chapter 1

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter.

I rattle the door handle for the third, no, fourth time. Still locked. I sigh and run my fingers through my tangled hair. I'm too tired to come up with a Plan B, so I pull off my heels and take a seat on the porch steps. It isn't long before my ass is numb and my patience is wearing thin. I stand back up and try the door handle again. I don't know why if I'm being honest. Maybe I am just stupidly optimistic. But, to no surprise, the door is s_till _locked.

"Good job, Buffy," I sigh to myself, dropping back down onto the porch steps. "Wait until your Mom is out of town to lock yourself out."

I drum my fingers along my knee and let out my millionth sigh of the night.

Usually I climb through my bedroom window. At least, that is what I would have done on any other night. Tonight, though, my mom is out of town, which means she locked every window and door before she left. I had lost my key at the house party I went to earlier on in the night – not one of my brightest moments, I'll admit. I know my next door neighbour has a spare key, though I can count on my fingers how many knives I'd rather stick in my eyes than to knock on their door.

Don't get me wrong, I like my neighbours. I just hate their son.

Liam O'Connor. Biggest ass of the century. I am not exaggerating either.

I cannot express how much I want to shave off his eyebrows. Not because I dislike his eyebrows, just because it would piss him off. It would definitely wipe the arrogant smirk off his face anyway. He thinks all the girls want him. I'll give him credit that ninety percent of girls want him, but I am definitely not one of them. I'm the leader of the other ten percent. The 'Lets feed Liam O'Connor to sharks' percentage. It is a goddamn beautiful percentage to belong to.

"Locked out?"

I roll my eyes.

"No, I just enjoy getting a numb ass and freezing to death," I retort.

I look up to find my other neighbour, William, standing in front of me with a stupid grin on his face. I cringe. His smile widens, showing teeth now.

"Want to stay at mine?"

I force myself not to gag. "I'd rather walk through Hell and snog Satan himself."

"That can be arranged," William says, waggling his eyebrows.

I can feel the chicken casserole from lunch stirring in my stomach. This idiot is sickening. And I mean that in a literal sense. If his parents weren't so nice to me, I would have kicked his ass by now. He isn't as bad as Liam, which isn't hard because Liam is insufferable, but he has his own creepiness that chills me to the bone. I'm almost positive that he is a Facebook stalker as well.

"Go away," I say as politely as I can.

"Love-"

"Don't call me 'love', it's what my Grandma calls me. After she's drank a bottle of whiskey and lost at bingo."

William stares at me. I stare back.

"Bitch," he finally mutters before stalking off to his own house.

I breathe a sigh of relief. The air feels a lot cleaner without that idiot contaminating it. Usually I can handle him for longer, but it's late and I'm tired. I know that he will be back to his usual creepy self by tomorrow, so I don't feel too bad for being rude. I try to avoid him as much as possible in school, especially because he's one of Liam's best friends. The whole friendship group of theirs spells trouble. Liam, William, Riley and Caleb make up the Fuckwit Four. The only nice one is Riley, who I may or may not have had a summer fling with last year.

I shiver. Suddenly I wish I had taken up William's offer and had just stayed at his. Sure, I'd have to burn this cute dress I'm wearing, but at least I'd be warm.

I sigh and drop my head into my hands.

"This is going to be a long night," I mutter.

* * *

**I have been dying to get back into my writing for months! I feel like a new story is exactly what I need to get back into the flow. Like 'That's What I Go To School For', it will be another High School fic. Sorry, I know they can be boring. I'm just trying to find my footing again!**

**All my love**

**XO**


	2. Chapter 2

I look down at the cute dress I'm still wearing from the previous night. I try to pull it down, savouring the bit of dignity I have left after sleeping on my porch, but it's no use. The dress exposes too much leg to go to school in. I want to feel sad about this, but I just can't hide the grin on my face. No school equals happy Buffy.

I glance at my watch.

It's eight in the morning. Fifteen more minutes and I can retrieve the spare key from the O'Connors. I want to go now, but I know Liam will still be there. I don't think I can handle his amused smirks and lame comments if he hears I slept on my porch. His mum would try to fuss over me, which would only make me feel more like a loser. Liam's mother is a nice lady. I occasionally have to suppress the urge to ask her what it had felt like carrying the spawn of Satan.

I hear a door slam. I look up to find Liam jogging down his porch steps, swinging his car keys around his index finger. I roll my eyes. I should have spent the night defacing his car whilst I had the chance. The shitty thing is his pride and joy. I say 'shitty' but, as much as it kills me to say, I really mean flashy and expensive. I don't know what kind it is – cars are just tins with four wheels to my eyes – but I know that it has probably earned him a lot of hot, steamy sex. Not in the car though. God forbid if someone's naked ass touched his leather seats.

Without taking my eyes off him, I crawl backwards out of his line of eyesight. I can hear him singing softly under his breath, something that sounds like a High School Musical song. I make a mental note of this fact to share with my friends later. Liam strikes me as the kind of guy who has a room full of Zac Efron posters and figurines.

Just as Liam opens his car door, I hear another door open and close.

"Sleep on your porch last night, love?" shouts William.

I grit my teeth and count to ten. Out of my peripheral vision, I see Liam pause.

"Does it look like I'm the kinda girl to sleep on my porch?" I hiss as William crosses my garden.

He pauses on the path. "Well, yeah? You're in the same clothes."

"It's called a washing machine, William. Try fucking buying one."

I hear Liam laugh. He leans against his car, watching with amused eyes. It annoys me even more now that I didn't vandalise his car.

With as much dignity as I can muster, which isn't a lot smelling like stale alcohol and Cheetos, I strut down the garden path, pass by William with a hiss, and continue walking down the street.

* * *

"You stink of shit, B."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks, Faith. Best compliment I've had in years."

I push past her into the small flat. It smells of pizza and cigarettes. I push the empty pizza box and chocolate wrappers off the sofa, before lying across it and pulling the throw over me. It's a relief to find that the throw doesn't smell of cigarettes. Faith scoffs from the doorway and slams the door. I moan when she pulls the throw off me.

"You're not sleeping here."

"Listen, I slept on my porch last night-"

Faith snorts. "You did? Wow."

"How about a little bit of sympathy?" I ask, snatching the throw out of her hands.

As I drag the throw over my head, I see Faith roll her eyes. Sympathy isn't Faith's style. She prefers to say the truth or nothing at all, no matter what the situation is. I try to admire her for it, but it can be quite irritating when I just want someone to pamper me. Willow is usually the one I turn to for sympathy. But Willow's parents will still be home at this time, and ruining Will's 'immaculate daughter' image would be something I'd deeply regret later. I owe Willow more than that.

"Where's your mom?" Faith questions.

I shrug. "Out of town."

"Where?"

"Let me just check the report from her tracking device," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

A few seconds pass in silence. Then the throw disappears and Faith is standing above me, looking unimpressed. I notice the deep bags under her eyes, the way her t-shirt sags around her stomach, and my warning bells start to ring. The last time she looked like this…

"What's the problem?" she snaps.

I raise my eyebrow. "Global warming. School. The extinction of the Dodo-"

"Don't go there. You're sulking like a child. What's _your_ problem?"

She looks exhausted and borderline crazy. Faith is prone to snapping at me, so this whole thing isn't worrying. Not until she grabs me by the arm and hurls me off the sofa.

"Hey!" I shout, staggering slightly. "What the fuck?"

"I'm not letting you wallow in self-pity," she says, pointing to the door. "Go home."

"No."

"Yes. You slept on your porch? So what? I've slept on the streets before and –"

"Well, don't tell everyone – you'll make them jealous!" I interrupt. "The whole of the USA will be sleeping on the goddamn streets soon."

A hiss slips through her teeth. She grabs my arm, tighter than I thought she was capable of, and drags me to the door. As soon as she opens it, she pushes me out. I stumble slightly, though quickly regain my balance.

"Come back tomorrow. I'm not in the mood to babysit today," she says.

With that, she slams the door in my face.

* * *

I cannot explain my relief when I see the O'Connor's driveway empty. Liam isn't home. I can finally get my keys.

I quickly run my fingers through my hair, untangling some of the thicker knots, before walking over my lawn and up the O'Connor's porch steps. Unlike my porch, theirs is full of flowers of every colour imaginable. Even though I will never admit it out loud, the beauty of the flowers dazzle me. I'm staring at a pink rose when I hear a small chuckle.

"Like what you see?"

I jump.

Mrs O'Connor smiles at me from the other end of the porch, where she is resting on the porch swing. A book sits open on her lap and she cradles a mug in her hand. She pats the seat next to her with her free hand, smiling. Her smile warms me to the core. I know better than to refuse, so I shuffle over and take a seat beside her.

"How can I help you, Buffy?" she asks.

"I've lost my key. Can I have the spare that my mom gave to you?"

I try not to look directly at her, mainly because all I can see is Liam when I do. They share the same warm, brown eyes and thick lashes, the same sharp cheekbones, the same wide smile. It is difficult sometimes to remind myself that she isn't her son; she is sensitive and admirable. She is the kind of woman my mother wants me to become. I can see why. Her smile is as warm as a hug.

She rises from her seat. "I'll go get them now."

When she disappears, she leaves behind the scent of mint. It overwhelms my nostrils.

I look up at the O'Connor's house and repress a sigh. I try to imagine living in a house like this one, but I can't. A broken home is all I know now.

Once the spare key is in my hand, I mumble a quick thanks and hurry down the steps. I want to stay. I want to bathe in Mrs O'Connor's warmth. But I know her smile will be my undoing if I stay, so I keep walking.

* * *

**Thank you so much for the reviews! You rock.**

**Enjoy.**

**All my love**

**Xo**


	3. Chapter 3

I collapse against the door and sigh.

It's kind of exhausting being a bad ass, especially when it's like second nature. Truthfully, I like the person I was before. But the divorce of my parents ruined that girl, so here I am. I'm a bad ass bitch from hell, a rebel without a cause, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. I sometimes consider whether this is truly the person I am supposed to be. If not, who cares? People give me free food.

I lock the door and throw the keys into the bowl. God, I hate that bowl. Mom insists on keeping it next to the door, even though it is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen, because it saves us from losing our keys. To get the record straight, I rarely lose my keys. Not inside this house anyway. I stare at the bowl for an extra moment, considering whether to smash it or not, before shrugging. Better not, otherwise Mom will just replace it with something uglier.

Pulling my boots off, I throw myself on to the sofa and sigh. I feel like I spend half my goddamn life sighing, but it's acceptable because I'm a teenager. I dread turning twenty. I try and rack my brain for an excuse other than "But I'm a teenager!" which has basically become my life motto. Alas, I cannot think of another excuse. Looks like I'll have to start actually owning up to my mistakes when I hit twenty. Mom will love that. She's probably counting down the days already.

I look around the empty sitting room. It's filled with photographs of me and Mom, from the first time she held me to my most recent school photo, but there are none of us with Dad. I can't decide whether this angers me or not. How can she pretend as though he was never a big part of our lives? He is part of the reason I exist. She created me with him. Surely their love meant more than pretending the other doesn't exist. At the same time, I'm glad there are no pictures of him. I don't know if I can handle seeing his face every day when I know he abandoned us. Knowing the photographs were the same, but the people were not. I still can't wrap my head around that bit of knowledge. It's stupid and unfair that people change so easily, that waking up and leaving your loved ones is no more difficult than running to the shop for milk. Fucked up.

It takes me a moment to realise the phone is ringing. It's across the room, balancing on the top of the television. I really can't be bothered getting up, but I know it is probably my mother. If I look at my cell phone, I can guarantee I'll have fifty-seven missed calls on there. What is it with Mom's and their need to leave so many missed calls?

"Hello?"

"Buffy, where have you been? Who are you with? What are you doing?"

I wait to see if she has any other question to tag on, but she doesn't.

"Buffy?"

"One sec, I'm just trying to remember what the first question was."

Mom moans. "Where have you been?"

"Sleeping on the porch," I reply.

"That isn't funny."

"I know it's not, it was freezing."

She pauses, probably trying to decide whether I am lying or not, before saying, "Are you at home now though?"

I roll my eyes. Wow, she is a genius. "Mom, you rang the house phone. Where else would I be?"

She laughs. I haven't heard her laugh in weeks. "Of course. Well, I'm just letting you know that my flight has been delayed. I won't be home for another two days."

I grin. Another two days without parental supervision? I want to cheer, but I'm aware my mom is still waiting for my reply on the phone. I try to sound sad.

"Two days?"

"I know, I'm sorry. Will you be okay? I can-"

"Nope. I'll be fine. Anyway, I've got to go. Love you."

I hang up and release the cheer that has built up in my chest. I love my mom, but I love my freedom more. Mom projects her feelings over the divorce, which isn't easy to live with, and some time away from the house will probably do her good. Too many memories live in this building. No matter how much I hate being here, I want my mom to heal.

But, whilst the house is free of family drama, there is only one thing to do…

"PARTY!"

* * *

I squeeze my way through the hordes of people. A few of them give me a thumbs up and offer me bottles of beer. I smile and shake my head, secretly cringing at the thought of drinking something that their mouths have been around. I don't want to know where half of these people's tongues have been. I cringe again. Knowing where my tongue has been is bad enough.

"Buff!"

I spin around to find my friend, Xander, slightly drunk and stumbling towards me. I can't help but grin as Willow appears behind him, looking ready to kill him with her bare hands. These two are the reason I still turn up to school. Kind of. Well, they are why I haven't been expelled yet anyway. I like that they're different from Faith, William and Liam. They are secure in their own skin, which makes me feel secure too. Faith may tease me for hanging around with 'losers', but I don't care.

"Hey Buff Buff," Xander grins, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

Willow and I cringe. "Buff Buff?"

"Cute, right?"

"No," I reply, pushing his arm off me.

He stumbles slightly, but his grin never fades. He uses Willow as an arm rest now, though she doesn't seem to mind. I have a slight feeling that Willow has a crush on Xander, but I'm not entirely sure. She definitely tolerates him better than others do. And they have had many sleepovers together in the past, though Willow has often made it clear that nothing ever happened.

"Great party," Willow comments.

Her tone makes me believe otherwise.

"Beats sitting at home alone," I shrug.

Willow smiles, but I can tell she's exhausted. Knowing Willow, she probably spent last night doing some popular kid's homework. She does that quite often. Not even for money, which confuses me. She could probably make a decent amount of cash if she charged for her services.

"Willow!"

I look over my shoulder to find the Fuckwit Four strutting towards us. I force myself not to gag at their presence. Willow seems to share my annoyance at seeing them. Her eyes lock on William, who is grinning at her. Caleb and Riley nod behind us, their eyes fixating on Cordelia Chase and her cheerleaders. I hear them mumble something about a 'great rack' and, without a word to anyone else, the two of them walk around us and head over. Liam sticks with William though, much to my displeasure, and shoots me a smile. I raise my eyebrow.

"You got my homework, pet?" William asks.

Willow nods. "I have one more question to do."

"Not good enough."

Before Willow can say anything, I jump to her defence. "Excuse me? How about you get off your ass and do your own homework?"

"Yeah, what she said!" adds Xander, waggling his finger at William.

William's arm shoots out to grab Xander's hand, but I quickly intercept it. I twist his wrist back and smirk when I hear him whimper. Liam, like the great friend he is, does nothing. His face remains blank as he watches.

"Don't test my patience, William," I hiss.

William let out a cruel laugh. "Turning more into your father every day, aren't you?"

Liam reaches out to pull William back, but I shoot him a glare. He lets his hand fall. Whatever William is talking about, Liam has clearly heard before. Now I am intrigued.

"Will-"

I cut Liam off. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We all know why Daddy left you, love." William sneers. "He used to beat you around, didn't he? He didn't want a little brat for a daughter."

His words hit me like a slap. I release his hand and recoil. Liam looks away, refusing to meet my eyes, while William smirks at me. He knows the effect of his words. I mentally count to ten, boxing away my emotions to deal with later, and then smile. Before William can say another word, I punch him in the face.

His nose bursts and sprays us both with blood. He growls and dives for me. Before his body can make contact with mine, Liam grabs him by the arm and pulls him away. Riley and Caleb run over, helping Liam restrain their idiotic friend.

"I'll get you back for that, love," William growls.

I smirk. "And do what? Bleach my hair like yours? Terrified."

He returns my smirk. "You'll see."

Liam allows the other two to drag William out of the house. He hovers for a minute, looking me up and down, before turning on his heel. As soon as the door slams shut, I sigh. I realise everyone is staring at me. My mood to party vanishes.

"What are you waiting for?" I shout, pointing towards the door. "Get the fuck out!"

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews! I appreciate them so much. I hope to keep seeing them.**

**Lots of love,**

**XO**


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